Hometown Glory
by wouldtheywriteasongforyou
Summary: A collection of Golden Trio era stories. ch 9 ron&hermione: "She's nineteen and ready to shed her childhood from her skin. There's a look in her eye that makes it seem like she's seen the edge of the universe, but her smile is so innocent that you're left thinking perhaps she's actually seen the beginning of it."
1. table of contents

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: Come and take a walk on the wild side.<br>**

Kings and Queens: A collection of drabbles and one-shots set in the Golden Trio era for various HPFC challenges / contests. Genre: Poetry, Romance, Tragedy, Angst, Drama, Adventure. Rating: K-T (will give warnings if a chapter is M).

This chapter is where all of my contest / challenge notes for each entry will be.

* * *

><p><strong>Table of Contents<strong>

Pairings (chapter #):

Neville&Luna. (2)  
>Bellatrix. (3)<br>GoldenTrio. (4)  
>Harry&amp;Ginny. (5)<br>Harry&Lily&James. (6)  
>Tonks&amp;Remus. (7)<br>Cho&Cedric. (8)  
>Ron&amp;Hermione. (9)<p>

**Master List**

2. Defying Gravity - Written for the HPFC Cinema Competition "Titanic"; The Disney Movie Plotline Competition "Pocahontas"; Duct Tape Competition "Paint Splatters"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "30. Take me with you"; Star Challenge "Alpha Centauri"; Gemstone Competition "moonstone"; Acrostic-y Competition "The Boy Who Live_**d**_" [decoy, Don't Let Me Stop You - Kelly Clarkson]. _Defying Gravity_ is one of the (best) songs in the musical WICKED. 9 Feb 2014. Word Count: 1,301.

3. Vagabond - Written for the HPFC Acrostic-y Competition "The Boy Who Li**_v_**ed" (viva la vida); Star Challenge "Shaula"; Monthly Poetry Flood Competition "Feb 2014: hope". 10 Feb 2014. Word Count: 362

4. Vile Vials - Written for the Journey Through Hogwarts Challenge "Part One: Diagon Alley (i. Slug and Jiggers Apothecary)" [waiting, potion, and difficult]; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "2. canon"; Acrostic-y Competition "The **_V_**anishing Glass"; Gemstone Competition "aquamarine"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "32. shiver". 13 Feb 2014. Word Count: 771

5. Break me like a promise - Written for the HPFC Monthly Het-tastic Drabble-athon "63. Promise". 21 Feb 2014. Word Count: 198

6. Car Crash Kid - Written for the Monthly Het-tastic Drabble-athon "42. Crash"; Duct Tape Competition "Flames". 22 Feb 2014. Word Count: 451

7. Lunar Cycle - Written for the Monthly Het-tastic Drabble-athon "45. Moonlight"; Off the Block Competition "IM - Easy". 23 Feb 2014. Word Count: 194.

8. Hail, Rain, or Shine - Written for the Monthly Het-tastic Drabble-athon "21. heart"; Acrostic-y Competition "The Vanis**_h_**ing Glass". 24 Feb 2014. Word Count: 311.

9. Earthbound - Written for the Oh the Thinks You Can Think Competition "Spotted Atrocious" ; Before I Fall Challenge quote 5. "Every second feels like eternity." ; Divergent Competition Amity: quote 5. "Something about him makes me feel like I am about to fall." ; Female Character Challenge "The Wife of Bath" ; Hedley Song Challenge "7. Crazy For You" ; Wand Wood Competition "Willow" ; Disney Character Competition "Heimlich" ; Journey Through Hogwarts Challenge "Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour" ; Acrostic-y Competition Chapter 3: The Lett_**e**_rs From No One "Enduring Love" ; Essie Nail Polish Challenge "5. Borrowed & Blue" ; Crayon Colour Challenge "12. blue" ; Off The Block Competition "Breaststroke Hard". 17 May 2014. Word Count: 1,111


	2. neville&luna: Defying Gravity

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: Did this ever happen in canon?<strong>

9 Feb 2014. Word Count: 1,301

**"I need you to trust me."**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Defying Gravity<span>**

[-]

"Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith first. The trust part comes later."  
>~ Man of Steel (2013)<p>

[-]

"Don't give up. Everyone deserves the chance to fly."

She stares back at him with wide waning gibbous eyes. Her soul has been fractured and shattered numerous times tonight, and she just wants the pain to stop. Her Ravenclaw mind is still sharp and sparkling – like a diamond in the moonlight, she thinks poetically – but her body is screaming from exhaustion and she is _this_ close to giving up. Death reaches out to her kindly. His black spindly fingers protruding from his hood of shadows wiggle invitingly, gracefully.

But from her other side, Life glitters like starlight with Neville's every breath. "Luna. You jump, I jump remember?" His voice echoes a promise made between a bird and a lion a lifetime ago. Hazel eyes stare into her blue ones, and for a second she thinks that life is worth living if she could only be oblivious and drown herself in his promises. "I'll be with you the entire time."

The other members of Dumbledore's Army had scattered long ago in the twisting, collapsing Daedalus maze. It is now just Luna and him left to protect each other. They stand in front of a door – an escape – that leads to nowhere that they know of and everywhere they can imagine. Over the din of falling prophecies, she can hear a muffled whispering from the other side. It terrifies her – she is so sure that it is Death's voice she is hearing.

"He's coming," she whispers. Now that Death is standing close enough to touch in front of her, she finds herself afraid and terrified of dying.

"Death Eater? Where?"

Neville is so brave, focused, and loyal. He's choosing to save her instead of protecting himself - he is not hesitant about the door behind them like she is, but he's opting to stay and protect her. She closes her eyes in defeat when this realisation hits her. Neville isn't the type to play by the rules of someone else's game or accept the limits others give him - and now, he's chosen to sacrifice himself alongside her.

The Department of Mysteries prophecy Luna had heard about herself echoes through her mind: _Daughter of the moon, today will be the day / you face the eater of Death at his door / a choice of the cruellest kind must be made / and the life of a friend will be no more. _Already half of the prophecy has come true, Luna realises. She and Neville are at Death's door, and now it seems to be that their demise is inevitable.

Something changes and is not the same within her once her mind focuses on these thoughts. Too long she has been afraid of losing love, but she realises with a sad bitter acceptance that she's already lost her love to this bravely mortal boy. Some things prophesised cannot be altered, but until she tries to deviate from her pre-destined path, she'll never know if that is the absolute truth or not.

"Boo," a thin cackling voice laughs mirthlessly in response to Neville's questions. As the Death Eater materialises from its inky black vapour, Neville immediately steps in front of Luna so that he is shielding her and the door, their only means of escape out of the doomed labyrinth that is the Department of Mysteries.

The Death Eater's mask is slightly askew – not enough that the Fifth Year and Fourth Year can identify him, but enough for Luna to note with a grim satisfaction that it was the one she had Stupefied earlier when Dumbledore's Army had first separated. Evidently the Death Eater also remembers Luna, for his face twists into a ghastly sneer and he points his wand directly at her.

"I've got two of 'em!" the Death Eater shouts gleefully to alert his comrades, his nails-on-a-chalkboard voice reverberating and causing another deluge of broken prophecies as the glass orbs break.

"I can't turn away without knowing you'll be all right," Neville tells her quietly, not wanting to turn his back on the approaching Death Eater but also not wanting to lose eye contact with Luna.

Her wand had been Expelliarmus-ed away from her during her haste to avoid the shattering prophecies. She's defenceless and completely vulnerable; her decision shouldn't be so hard to make. Stay and die at the hands of this Death Eater or jump then fall into whatever is on the other side of the door? Luna is terrified and the whispering voices of death on the other side of the door get louder as she makes her decision.

"You promised," she says in a quivering voice. "Don't let me stop you from doing what you want to do. Take me with you, Neville. Say we'll be together and that everything will be okay. That's all I want." There is a very real chance that neither of them will survive even if they escape the Death Eater by falling through the door.

"I need you to trust me."

She trusts him with her life, and now it is time to put that trust to the test. Her life or his? Only one of them will survive tonight, according to her prophecy. Knowing Neville, he'll act as a decoy by playing martyr and fending off the Death Eater as best he can while she escapes through the door - but that's not how she wants this story to end.

The Death Eater still displays some lingering side effects of the Stupefy spell. His curses are off-target and his reflexes aren't the best, but still, he is a lethal opponent and out for blood. He believes he has the advantage, though, so he is toying with Neville and Luna. He doesn't seem to have seen the door they are standing in front of - if he did notice its existence, surely they would have been _Avada_'d by now.

Neville's left side is closest to the Death Eater since he is half-turned towards their attacker; however, Neville also keeps some of his focus on Luna and her next move. He has put himself in harm's way to distract the Death Eater from her, allowing Luna the option to escape through the door. Though Neville has a wand and could attack the Death Eater, doing so would be guaranteeing their death since the Death Eater's comrades will be answering their ally's gleeful shout sometime soon.

The Death Eater is growing annoyed by this slow-paced game of cat-and-mouse. He raises his wand and casts a Cruciatus Curse at her that Neville barely manages to deflect.

Luna grabs Neville's hand and the knob to the trapdoor. She has to be brave (like Neville, her fearless lion) and make the final decision soon. The time for second-guessing has already passed - now it's time for her to trust her instincts, close her eyes, and leap. "Kiss me goodbye," she whispers to him. She hopes she doesn't live to regret her last words, and she hopes that she is happy in the end now that she is choosing this. But Neville doesn't seem to hear her and the Death Eater is mouthing the Killing Curse and _OhMerlinshedoesnotwanttodieRowenanonotyet -_

"_Avada Kedav –_"

But the spell is cut short and misses them as they make the split-second decision to launch themselves into the unknown on the other side of the door. They are free-falling, defying gravity with every breath they take, and no Wizard that there is or was is ever going to bring them down again. They're hurtling headfirst fearless towards the Whispering Veil and the voices of Death, but there is no fight that they cannot win. Together, they are the greatest team that has ever been. Together, they are unlimited.

Nothing can ever bring them down, for Luna and Neville are flying high, defying gravity, forever.

[-]


	3. bellatrix: Vagabond

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: If I were JK, I'd be living like a queen in London.<strong>

10 February 2014. Word Count: 362

**All she wanted was revenge.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Vagabond<span>**

[-]

Victory  
>had once been hers.<br>Together,  
>she and the Dark Lord had ruled the wizarding world<br>and their terrible teamwork of two  
>infected magical minds as they preached Pureblood ideology.<br>She was crowned the Black Queen of a decaying planet  
>and wielded her flexible wand like it was her<br>ace of spades.

But then on the thirty-first of October,  
>her Lord had been dethroned,<br>and suddenly  
>the tide had turned and hauled her away to<br>Azkaban  
>before she had a chance to identify who her friends and enemies were.<p>

(Oh, who was she kidding?  
>Bellatrix Black Lestrange did not have any <em>friends<em>.)

She was a black widow  
>who wove a sticky spider web of lies.<br>Her victims were careless casualties,  
>mindless flies who had the misfortune to catch her fancy.<br>And she was the insane girl with blood on her lips and listening to the soundtrack of screams  
>which was just<br>the way  
>she liked<br>it.

Now she was a caged bird with no room to fly  
>fed to the Dementors<br>one happy memory at a time.  
>She relished freedom and independence<br>but that itsy-bitsy Potter baby had taken it away from her.

Once, she had been a monarch with wings that shadowed the sky  
>a predator to be feared<br>with eagle-eyes of a selective serial killer.

(Look at her now,  
>sleeping alone in a cold dank prison cell<br>paying the price for the world that she used to own.)

(Look at her now,  
>cast away like a piece of forgotten rubbish<br>homeless and wandering  
>venting about the glory days<br>searching for that skeletal-less soul she calls Master.)

A fatal bitterness poisoned her heart with rusty nails  
>it oxidised her blood and congealed her emotions<br>until all she wanted was  
>revenge.<p>

She would wait  
>forever, if she must<br>she would wait hopefully for the rise of her Master  
>because that day would come again, she was sure of it.<br>And then the world would be hers again.

(Never mind that the world had changed since she'd been locked up.  
>Never mind that the peasants she had commanded now longed to see her head on a pike.)<p>

Once a queen, always a queen.

[-]


	4. hermione&ron&harry: Vile Vials

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: Chamber of Secrets.<br>**

13 Feb 2014. Word Count: 772

**Detective Sherlock Potter and his sidekick Ron Watson would have to keep waiting in suspense for a little while longer, then.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Vile Vials<strong>

[-]

Vacuous boys were all that seemed to clutter the hallways of Hogwarts. Hermione huffed in annoyance as she went to the library to research the Polyjuice Potion. Honestly, it was as if there was nothing but dandelion fluff inside of Harry's and Ron's heads! They could speculate and hypothesise and jump to conclusions all that they wanted to but they never made the executive decisions. Oh no, it was always _her_ job to be the intelligent one in their group of three.

_But I'm allergic to the library_, Ron had once said.

She rolled her eyes and browsed through the apothecary books. There was nothing on the Polyjuice Potion in any of them. Slowly, her eyes flicked over to the Restricted Section. Could it be in there . . . ?

[-]

A few days later, Hermione Granger was back in the library. She walked up to Madam Pince's desk and gave the librarian a slip of parchment. Madam Pince eyed Hermione carefully but granted her access to the Restricted Section nonetheless.

Hermione breathed out a sigh of relief. Really, she could not believe how smoothly everything was going according to her plan. First, she had Professor Lockhart sign a slip giving her permission to check out Moste Potente Potions for which she claimed that it had information on slow-acting venoms, a subject Professor Lockhart briefly touched upon in Gadding with Ghouls. Then, Madam Pince had actually believed her alibi, and now Hermione found herself amongst the deepest and darkest books that Hogwarts had to offer. The spooky and forbidden atmosphere of the Restricted Section made her shiver.

She left the Restricted Section as soon as she had located Moste Potente Potions. Hermione did not desire to be in that area of the library longer than she had to.

[-]

After flipping through a few gory pages, Hermione could understand why Moste Potente Potions was not suitable for the under-aged witch or wizard. The pictures accompanying the potions were positively terrifying, and the recipes were extremely difficult. She read with wide eyes about the defects and symptoms that may occur to the person who ingested the potion if the concoction was brewed incorrectly.

She needed to focus, though, and not be scarred for life by these gruesome potions. She flipped to the page where the recipe for Polyjuice Potion was. Skimming over the ingredients list, she noted that it required very specific ingredients that surely only Professor Snape had in his private stores. Hermione also saw that the brewing time for the potion was a month.

Detective Sherlock Potter and his sidekick Ron Watson would have to keep waiting in suspense for a little while longer, then.

[-]

Stealing the necessary ingredients from Professor Snape's personal stores was a difficult feat, but somehow they managed to do it. The boys brought their stash into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom which was the place they had all agreed was secret enough to brew the Polyjuice Potion without getting caught. Harry and Ron diligently dropped the lacewing flies into the cauldron when Hermione told them to. She felt like she was a little kid again playing with a chemistry set (or perhaps a drug dealer in a meth lab) but she knew that this was much more serious than either. After all, this was _magic_.

"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," she stated. Hermione then proceeded to detail her plan on how to get Crabbe's and Goyle's hair by using cakes filled with a Sleeping Draught. "I've already got mine." She pulled a vial out of her pocket that contained a hair she had plucked from Millicent Bullstrode's robes.

Harry and Ron looked doubtfully at each other. Ron muttered, "Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?"

[-]

It was time. The potion bubbling intermittently in the cauldron was filled with sludgy dark matter. It smelled positively vile – Hermione was sure it wouldn't taste any better – but it would have to do.

"I'm sure I've done everything right," she said anxiously as she checked the Polyjuice Potion recipe one more time. "It looks like the book says it should . . . once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves." She ladled out the potion into three separate vials and added a hair to each. Each glass had a violent reaction when the hairs were added and turned unpleasant colours.

The three split up into different stalls and waited with bated breath before sipping their potions. "Ready?" Harry asked.

"Ready," Ron and Hermione responded.

"One – two – three – "

[-]


	5. harry&ginny: Break me like a promise

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: muggle!AU.<br>**

21 Feb 2014. Word Count: 198

**"I'll come back," he promised. **

* * *

><p><span><strong>Break me like a promise<strong>

[-]

"I love you," Harry had said. "Nothing will change."

Of course, it wasn't true: they were two foolishly naive not-quite-yet adults living in a war zone. The sky was endlessly burning and the bomb sirens wailed almost as much as the families did who were torn apart by the death of their loved ones.

"I have to go fight," Harry explained, his eyes begging for her to understand that his love for his country was greater than his love for her.

"You can't," she pleaded. Ginny wanted to tell her boyfriend exactly why he couldn't leave their safe haven - didn't he realise he was going to have to physically murder someone before his inevitable death or feel the pain of his soul ripped apart by an unforgivable act of torture? - but the words were a tangled anthem of regret in her throat.

"I'll come back," he promised, his voice ringing with a brave soldier's confidence.

Ginny was now bitterly staring at the wooden box with the Union Jack draped over it. Harry had come back just as he had vowed, but the dead boy in the box with the silenced heart would never love her again.

[-]


	6. harry&lily&james: Car Crash Kid

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: muggle!AU. Let's pretend Harry is a toddler in this HP scene.<strong>

Written for the HPFC Monthly Het-tastic Drabble-athon "42. Crash"; Duct Tape Competition "Flames"

22 February 2014. Word Count: 451

**You want to forget these details but you can't. **

* * *

><p><strong><span>Car Crash Kid<span>**

[-]

You try to remember  
>but you can't.<br>And you don't know if that is a good thing or not.

You would like to hear your mother's voice  
>an echo of a song you'll never tire of<br>but then you'd have to remember her final solo  
>and the last breath she took to prepare herself for the denouement.<p>

You would like to feel your father's heartbeat  
>the steady soldier's rhythm<br>but then you'd have to remember his final stand  
>and the emptying cavity in his chest when his life bled out.<p>

(You do remember some things:  
>the smell of the rain<br>the squealing of tires  
>her scream<br>shattered windows.  
>You want to forget these details<br>but  
>you can't.)<p>

In the midst of it all, there was a green light.  
>It hung suspended at the bottom of red and yellow<br>– _go! _–  
>(you think that was your father's last word)<p>

It all happened so quickly  
>the physically jarring shove from one reality to another<br>and the car rose  
>flying up to the moon<br>and then fell back to Earth  
>a flaming trodden piece of aluminium<br>_make a wish_, you recall thinking  
>because even then you had enough time to realise<br>how close Death was to your crushable bubble shield of metal.

And the glass rained down  
>a sparkling confetti storm of dusted powder and cutthroat shards<br>as the car slid and flipped in a too-perfect ballet dance.  
>Your father was silently slumped over the steering wheel<br>a watercolour of red bleeding through his shirt.  
>The seatbelt imprisoned you in the backseat<br>ensnaring you the more you struggled to break free.

"Harry? Harry? Baby, are you all right?"

(You do remember some things:  
>the scarlet letters branded across your father's chest<br>the burning rubber of tires  
>her hoarse promises fading with every painful breath<br>glass diamonds embedded into your skin.  
>You want to forget these details<br>but  
>you can't.)<p>

There was a fire branding itself on your forehead,  
>etching in a throbbing zigzag pattern,<br>pulsing in a steady countdown  
>that marked your last moments with your broken family.<p>

"We've been hit," your mother explained in a deceptively calm tone. "A drunk driver  
>ran a red light and hit us head-on at the intersection.<br>But we're going to be all right.  
>Do you hear me, Harry?<br>We are going to be

all

right.

Mummy loves you, Harry.  
>Mummy loves you so much."<p>

She spoke disjointedly  
>broken<br>and you don't know why  
>but you thought she was wrong<br>so. very. wrong.

There was a distant wailing of sirens  
>or perhaps that was your voice crying out helplessly.<p>

You try to remember  
>but you can't.<br>And you don't know if that is a good thing or not.

[-]


	7. tonks&remus: Lunar Cycle

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: Tonks-centric.<strong>

23 February 2014. Word Count: 194

**But I want you, still.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Lunar Cycle<br>**

[-]

One day, I will be able to look at the moon and not miss you. I'll see it as a cratered physical mass of lunar rock and nothing more. On the nights of the full moon, I won't lie paralysed in my bed listening for the howls of wolves and wondering if one of their anguished voices is yours. The silver moonlight will have lost its torturous significance and I'll be freed from your fears.

My world won't revolve around you anymore. My months won't be numbered in twenty-eight cyclical days. The tides will stop pushing and pulling me faintly closer to you. Gravity will prevent things from falling and the stars will be realigned.

And maybe, just maybe, I can be all right again.

But until that day comes, I'll be defined as the girl who loved a werewolf unconditionally. I'll be known as the one who always loved you – even more so when you couldn't seem to love yourself.

You're out there somewhere, distantly nearby and surrounded in a sea of loneliness. But I want you, still. All the parts of you. Even the parts of you that have forgotten about me.

[-]


	8. cho&cedric: Hail, Rain, or Shine

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: Cho-centric.<strong>

24 February 2014. Word Count: 311

**I love him too much.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Hail, Rain, or Shine<br>**

[-]

Her heart whispers to her mind but she silences her fragile over-worked organ. _I'm bleeding endlessly_, her heart warns. _Won't you find Love and make me whole again?_

_Shh_, Cho quiets her helpless heart. _You'll be fine_. She looks into a cracked bathroom mirror in a vacant bathroom on the third floor and uses red lipstick to paint an artificial smile onto her face.

_Where is he?_ her heart demands. _Why has he been absent from your life for so long now?_

Cho cannot scrub away the yesterdays caked onto her tired, lifeless eyes. She tries to erase the promise burning on her left ring finger but Cedric's assurances echo like a haunting melody in her head. He had believed in their future – the grand white wedding, a house bursting with life, a family whose size would rival the Weasley's – but those dreams would never come true for them. Cho remembers Cedric's pledge to love her no matter the stormy weather the future may bring them, but as she stands on the other side of time she knows that he never equated his premature death into their plans.

She straightens the shirt collar loosely noosed around her neck and tugs at the denim smothering her legs. Her heart suspects the undeniable truth she is neglecting to mention but Cho does not have the strength to deliberately confirm its worst fears.

_I love him too much_, her morose brittle heart says.

_I know_, Cho responds. She finishes her transformation from ghastly to ghostly and dries the salt from her eyelashes. _He loved you unconditionally, too._

Her heartbeat staggers at the slip of information. _Loved_? it repeats.

_Nononono, _Cho tries to correct her train of thought but the damage has been done. _He loves you still_.

But her heart is done with being lied to and so it simply stops.

Just.

Like.

That.

[-]


	9. ron&hermione: Earthbound

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: Fluff. Fluff fluff fluff.<br>**

17 May 2014. Word Count: 1,111

**With one terrifying leap that makes your heart jump into your throat, she drops down to Earth and pulls her head out of the clouds.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Earthbound<br>**

[-]

Evening skies paint the world in hues of borrowed and blue. She's nineteen and ready to shed her childhood from her skin. There's a look in her eye that makes it seem like she's seen the edge of the universe, but her smile is so innocent that you're left thinking perhaps she's actually seen the beginning of it. She's swinging on the swingset that your father installed in the Burrow's back garden. Her legs pirouette amongst the clouds as she climbs higher and higher towards the roof of your jar-lidded world.

Hermione catches sight of you leaning against the door leading into the house. "Ron!" she giggles out, drunk on the stars that she's been cramming into her mouth. "Come swing with me!"

You eyeball the rickety swingset your father found at a Muggle garage sale earlier in the summer. The structure shakes with what could be creaky laughter - but then you remember this is a Muggle edifice and perhaps it is an unhinged squeaky warning instead - as it propels her higher in the atmosphere with each kick of her dancer's legs.

"I'm fine," you respond, shading your eyes as the setting sun illuminates her in a rose-gold glow. The rays build wings on her back, and she's not swinging anymore but _flying_. You're content to watch her beauty and unrestrained happiness. Never before have you seen Hermione Granger as carefree as she is now in this moment.

"Your loss," she shrugs and lets go of the hand chains so that each kick brings her closer and closer to the precipice of reality. With one terrifying leap that makes your heart jump into your throat, she drops down to Earth and pulls her head out of the clouds. Hermione dusts her hands on her blue jeans and lies back on the grass, eyes closed to the brilliance of the sun overhead. "At least come over here," she says over the clanking of the vacant swing seat that is still moving using the force of a phantom swinger.

You oblige and stride over to her. "Hey," you say awkwardly for lack of anything else to say.

A smile curves the bow of her lips. "Hey."

"You looked like a pro up there," you joke.

"Mmm," she hums noncommittally. Her eyes open, and she does not look surprised to see you standing above her with your face angled in an upside-down way. "I had lots of practice when I was younger." She reaches out a hand and taps the back of your knee. "Sit down. I want to kiss you."

How could you refuse her? "Yeah?" you grin and sit cross-legged behind her head. You give her an upside-down kiss just to see what it's like. It's a messy puzzle piece of lips and teeth and spit and you're laughing into each other's mouths.

"Ron," she grins. "Kiss me properly."

"Bossy as always," is your response, but your tone is light. She shrugs off your teasing and threads her fingers into the hair at the back of your skull. While your lips are busy, her fingers tap a melody into your head of a song only she can hear.

"You're in a lovely mood tonight," you smile and tug her so that she's snuggled against you with her grass-stained back pressed into your chest. Hermione's heartbeat pulses a steady tattoo, and soon your heart is quickening to match her rhythm.

"I'm having a bit of a problem," she announces candidly.

"Oh?"

"Tomorrow's my birthday - "

"I'm quite aware."

Hermione kisses the freckle on the underside of your jaw and mumbles, "Shut up, Ron."

You have another quick remark waiting on your tongue but you let it melt, and then swallow the words back down.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted - " she pauses dramatically to let you humour her and marinate in a cloud of self-guilt, " - tomorrow's my birthday, and I'm having a bit of an identity crisis."

"An identity crisis," you repeat.

"_Yes_, Ronald," she says and the full-naming sobers your playful mood. "An identity crisis." She mumbles something underneath her breath that sounds suspiciously like: _It's always the tone of surprise_.

You stay quiet and let her gather her thoughts; if there's anything you've learnt while dating Hermione Granger, it's that she likes to pick her words carefully so that they all contribute to her intended and delivered effect.

"Well, maybe not an identity crisis, per say," she amends. She struggles to express her thoughts in words. It's the first time you've ever seen her so . . . human. "I don't want to grow up," she admits in the end. "But I'm tired of being a child. I don't know what to do."

In the gap between the column of her throat and her right ear, you rest your chin. "You don't have to do anything at all," you tell her gently. For quite some time, you've realised that she likes to saddle the world upon her shoulders, but she's not Atlas and it's not her burden to carry. "No one expects anything from you, Hermione."

She smiles sadly. "I don't know if I should hit you or not for lying to me."

_It's not a lie_, you want to defend yourself. Hermione has already made up her mind, though, and there's nothing short of changing the laws of the universe that you can do to sway her opinion. "You have the rest of forever to figure out who you want to be and what you want to do," you say instead.

"I don't want forever," she counters but then she mumbles something else.

"Pardon?"

Her cheeks turn the colour of your hair. "I said I don't want forever unless it's with you."

"Forever?"

She nods and stares straight ahead at the swingset.

"With me?"

Hermione sighs and pivots in your lap so that she is eye-level with you. "You made me fall," she accuses and it's not at all romantic like you thought your first declaration of love would be.

"I'm . . . sorry?" you apologise, slightly bewildered by her non sequitur.

"You made me fall," she repeats and a slideshow of moments plays in your mind: in love, off the swingset, off her ego-based pedestal, into your arms. You hear her unspoken words loud and clear. "And I love you for it."

"I love you more," you start to say but she's kissing the words right out of your mouth.

Every second feels like eternity when you're around her. That's all right with you; you promised her 'forever' and you're not ready to break that promise any time soon.

[-]


	10. hagrid&voldemort: Great Eggs-pectations

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: It's Voldy speaking and not Quirrell, so no need for the s-s-st-stutter.<br>**

Written for the Battleship Challenge (B1: "It's the saddest part of my day, leaving you." - Aurelia, Love Actually) ; Oh The Thinks You Can Think Competition "Max" ; Divergent Competition Erudite quote 5. "It is our secrets that cause conflict."

24 May 2014. Word Count:

**He also talked about flobberworms and blast-ended skrewts because who doesn't like to hear about those?  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>Great Eggs-pectations<strong>

It was not Hagrid's intent to go to a pub that evening. Nor was it his intent to buy a few tankards of ale, get piss-drunk, and buy a dragon egg. The resulting (un)expected hangover in the morning was simply icing on the cake.

What Hagrid _had_ intended to was spend the night in his hut howling at the moon alongside Fang as they drowned their lonely sorrows in a bottle of mead.

It seems that ale has a much higher alcohol content than mead; who knew? (Hagrid knew _now_.) But no one drinks mead at a pub - well, not _real_ men, and certainly not half-giants - and no one goes to a pub without drinking some sort of alcoholic beverage.

So there he was at the Leaky Cauldron - or was it the Hog's Head? - breaking bar stools and spilling secrets to strangers. All accidentally, of course. Dumbledore, great man that he was, trusted Hagrid with the you-know-what and so Hagrid would never divulge where the you-know-where the you-know-what was stored, not even after three litres of ale.

This one persistent hooded fellow, though, well, he seemed quite interested in Hagrid's profession. Who was Hagrid to deny the shady man everything the bloke ever did not want to know about the care of magical creatures? Hagrid chattered on happily for about, oh, two hours or so, as he detailed what one must do (and not do) when approaching a unicorn. He also talked about flobberworms and blast-ended skrewts because who doesn't like to hear about those?

"Yeh know, I've always wanted a dragon," Hagrid slurred out pensively as he stroked his beard and tossed back another mug of ale. "But it's illegal to own 'em, ye know." He tapped the side of his nose and winked at the stranger.

"I know," the stranger said simply and without further elaboration. "I, myself, would want a three-headed dog. Unfortunately, they are rather hard to tame, aren't they?"

Hagrid desperately wanted to answer the stranger's question - he knew the answer and it was quite rare for that to occur - but the rational part of his mind remembered that it was a subject a little too close regarding the you-know-what.

The hooded stranger sensed Hagrid's hesitancy. "Perhaps I could entice you with a gift for your knowledge?"

"A gift?" Hagrid inquired suspiciously but with a gleam of intrigue in his eyes.

The stranger tapped a hidden pocket inside of his cloak. "I've got a Norwegian Horntail egg. Would this care to interest you?"

This, undoubtedly, propelled Hagrid into a one-sided conversation about three-headed dogs. "The only true way to tame them is to play music. They like that. Doesn't even have to be good music. Just something to soothe the ears."

"How . . . simple," the stranger mused. "I'd best be off before the night becomes unfriendly. I must bid you adieu." He made a surreptitiously quick transaction with Hagrid before he left the pub.

And that was how Hagrid came into possession of a hangover and a dragon egg.


	11. draco&astoria: Vienna

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer: Won't you help me find the way home?<br>**

Written for the fanfiction terms categories competition "flame" ; Tien Len Competition "Round Two: card 5 - Astoria Greengrass, teacup, "I thought you were dead." ; Off The Block Competition "Freestyle: Extra Hard" ; Birthday Fic Exchange "May 10"

For Leah (TheTwoDL).

4 May 2014. Re-posted 23 October 2014. Inspired by "Vienna" by Billy Joel. Word Count: 850

**You're a little lost but that's okay because you never were looking to be found.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Vienna<span>**

[-]

**i.**

You sit alone, sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose, and fingers idly swirling the spoon inside of your empty teacup. It's not stridently bright outside this morning, but you prefer to look at the world through tinted glasses. The shadows make everything clearer, as dark and backwards as that sounds. Green grass glows against the grey horizon and the Heuriger's outdoor patio is draped in a jungle of ivy. Here, in a city that doesn't speak English, you're a little lost but that's okay because you never were looking to be found.

Back at Hogwarts, you were just a child, easily impressionable and so desperate for attention that nothing else mattered in your tiny bubble world besides having all eyes on you. You loved the magic of the castle and adored the endless possibilities of your limitless life. You had the power to make the stars explode and the sun collide with the Earth. Everything was right at your fingertips, waiting for you to wave your baton and conduct the universe as you saw fit.

But then the war came, and with it were the flames of a revolution that burned much too brightly. It scared you, all of the fires that lit up within the hearts of revolutionaries, and you fled with the rest of your too-proud housemates when the heat became too hot to handle.

He stayed behind, though, and that made you all the more afraid. The inferno raging inside of him threatened to melt the ice he was sculpted from. His eyes blazed with the destruction of a thousand galaxies. For a moment, you thought Draco Malfoy could be the catalyst who razed the wizarding world. He certainly had enough incentive to do so, ever since the madman took up residency in his life.

As other children living in the midst of a battlefield, the war made you all grow up much too soon. You had so many dreams and sparkling plans, but they all shriveled up and died as you focused your energy and attention on surviving in the present instead of living in the future.

Before you started living on a day-by-day basis, though, he helped you figure out what you wanted in life. All of those nights in the Astronomy Tower where you took a break from reality and dreamt of a better future were spent with him. He was the one who showed you that the shadows provided clarity. Draco would sit on the windowsill, just on the precipice between flying and falling, and would point out the different tombs in the graveyard of light hanging overhead.

"There's Adara," he would list off. "And Capella. Arcturus. Beetlegeuse."

"Do you wish on stars?" you once asked him.

Draco laughed bitterly. "For what? I'm a simple person with a complicated mind."

You shook your head at his ambiguity and climbed up on to the sill with him. The cold air stung your face but still, you leaned further out into the atmosphere. "I wish my name was engraved into the sky." You're so close to inhaling the stars that you almost tumble out of the tower like a princess who's finally found a way of escaping.

"Shit!" he yelled, sounding frightened and amused all at once. He grabbed your waist and pulled you inside of the Astronomy Tower's room. "Merlin, Tori, don't do that again. I thought you were dead."

You laughed because that was so far from the truth; that little stint was the most alive you'd ever felt in all of your fifteen years. "Still very much alive," you informed him with an unapologetic grin.

"What were you trying to do?" he asked slightly incredulous that you had even dared to put your life in jeopardy.

"Leave," you said simply. "I'm tired of living in a warzone. I just want to . . . leave." There's no other way you can summarise how badly you want to extricate yourself from Britain before the whole place collapses from the revolt against the Dark Lord.

"Do you know where you would go?"

"Vienna. I hear the city waits for you instead of leaving you behind."

He hummed. "Sounds nice. I might have to tag along."

Austria is everything you have imagined and more. You left Britain in 1998 and missed the entire final battle of the War. You were underage, of course, so there was nothing you really could have done to help, but you never went back during Britain's reconstruction phase. Mother and Father paid for your tuition to the Austrian school of witchcraft, and this is now your fifth year in Vienna post-graduation. Draco hasn't come to visit you at all, but then again, you haven't made much of an effort to visit England. You still whisper the name of all the celestial tombstones to remind yourself of the life and love you once had, but they are silent and do not respond back.

And so you sit here, isolated and blending into the background in the city of dreams, as you wait for your life to begin once again.

[-]


	12. kbow: The One with Lots of Door Banging

**THEME**: Accidental Pregnancy

**Prompts**: 4 (frog) 5(fever) 6(chisel) 8(pasta) 10(misnomer)

All-Human AU. I bet I'm more confused about what's going on in this one-shot than you are.

26 November 2014. Word Count: 2,021

* * *

><p><span><strong>The One with Lots of Door Banging<strong>

[-]

"Yes. YES. _Yes!_ Oooh, right there, Won-Won. Don't stop! Ungh, feels so good. Don't stop, don't stop, don't – YESSSSSSS!"

"You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me," Katie growled underneath her breath at the noises coming from inside her flat.

"Oooh, baby! Yeah! I'm so close!"

Katie slid down the wall outside the front door to her flat and thumped her head against the wall in frustration. She had gone to the farmer's market this morning, and in her haste to beat the early morning crowd Katie had forgotten the key to her flat. Of course, her flatmate had predictably invited her on-again off-again lover of seven months over for some morning nookie while Katie had been out grocery shopping.

She looked at the bottles of milk and cartons of eggs in her re-usable, eco-friendly shopping bags. Katie knew that Lavender and Ron could shag for_hours_ without getting out of bed – that is, if they were even screwing on the bed because dear God those two went at it like bunnies on every flat surface available – but her groceries needed to be put in the refrigerator soon. She did not get up at five fucking AM to get to the farmer's market and pay an arm and a leg for the organic produce only for her selfish bint of a flatmate to steal the flat for the entire day to play house with her lover.

Katie felt like screaming in frustration at the insensitivity of her flatmate. Being locked out of the flat so Lavender could shag Won-Won senseless was only one infraction on a long list of grievances Katie had against her flatmate. Dirty lingerie strewn about the flat, failure to pay rent on time, and burning down the kitchen because "How was I supposed to know brownies don't need to cook for ten minutes in the microwave?" were other examples of bad flatmate behaviour that Lavender commonly displayed.

She would deal with Lavender later, though. Right now she had to focus on finding somewhere arctic to store her dairy products before they spoiled.

Her eyes drifted to flat 48B a few doors down on the opposite side of the hall. She hated to call on him for a favour but she was getting desperate. Another chorus of "Oooh yes, Won-Won!" strengthened Katie's resolve. Mind made up, Katie gathered her groceries and knocked on flat 48B's door.

"Katie? Hey, nice of you to stop by though I wasn't expecting – "

"My flatmate is having sex so I need to use your refrigerator," Katie informed him as she breezed past a confused Oliver Wood. "I left my key in the back pocket of yesterday's jeans," she added, as if that would explain everything.

"I, er, all right?" He closed the door, hesitated as he tried to make sense of what she had just said, and then shrugged. "Here – let me help with some of those bags."

They were for the most part silent as they unloaded Katie's groceries onto his kitchen counter. Oliver knew that Katie would talk – well, more like vent and rant and scream about the situation – when she felt ready. He had to break the silence when he came across a bag filled with pharmaceuticals, though.

"The birth control pills and pregnancy test is for the whore in my flat," Katie said acerbically in answer to Oliver's dropped jaw and wide eyes. "Lavender thinks she's pregnant. God knows why – she obviously is living like a nun."

"Right, er, yeah. Of course," he stammered out and averted his gaze. Oliver coughed and pardoned himself from the kitchen.

Katie huffed and rolled her eyes at her best friend's awkward male behaviour. She continued to chuck leafy vegetables and dairy products into his refrigerator. When all the groceries had been put away, Katie put on some water to heat for tea and then walked into the living room where Oliver was absent-mindedly channel-surfing. He muted the telly as soon as she plopped down horizontally on the couch and laid her head in his lap.

"Can I move in with you?"

He blinked. "What?" His fingers, which had been playing with strands of her silky brown hair, stopped their motion abruptly.

"Temporarily," Katie hastily amended. Best-friend-who-became-boyfriend-and-was-now-best-friend-again sure made things complicated in their relationship. "My lease isn't up for another few weeks but I need to get the hell out of that flat and find someone new to split rent with. There's only so many times I can tolerate hearing Lavender orgasm before I'm going to become Ursula and steal her voice so maybe she'll finally shut the fuck up."

"Ursula?"

Katie reached up and patted Oliver's stubbly chiselled jaw. "You know, the evil sea witch in the Little Mermaid? It's a good thing you're pretty, Ollie. Otherwise I'd say you were hit by too many footballs to get very far in life."

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Whatever, you love me anyway."

Katie removed her hand from his face and didn't meet his eyes. "Too soon," she murmured apologetically.

"Sorry," he winced. It wasn't the first time he had said stuck his foot in his mouth when it came to expressing his feelings towards Katie. "Pretend I didn't say anything."

She smiled sadly and watched the flickering pictures on the telly for a few moments. Oliver's fingers started to play idly with her hair again. Some habits, it seemed, were harder to break than hearts.

x

Three days later, Katie found refuge in Oliver's flat again.

"How bad were Lavender and Won-Won this time?" was the first thing Oliver asked when she barrelled in. Her hands were over her ears and her eyes were squeezed shut. She looked like an adorable blind and deaf bat, he thought fondly.

"I need to bleach my eyes," Katie responded with a grimace. "Repeatedly. Full-strength industrial bleach. Oh, God, it was awful." She stumbled into a wall and flailed her arms feverishly. Unfortunately, her left elbow hit the doorframe. "Ow! Son of a – "

"Hey," he interrupted. "It's gonna be fine." He closed the door gently and then put an arm around Katie's waist to guide her over to the living room sofa. "You good?"

"No," she mumbled, eyes still closed. Her elbow throbbed from where she banged it into the door. She thrust her elbow into Oliver's general direction. "It hurts," she pouted. "Kiss it to make it all better." As soon as the words left her mouth, she jerked her hurt arm away and clapped her left hand over her mouth. "Oh my God," Katie said. "I didn't just say that." A kiss from Oliver was the last thing she wanted. She didn't need to open that can of worms or relive the butterflies and floaty feeling his lips induced –

Goddamn it. She was so wrong. It wasn't fucking butterflies – those were big ass frogs leaping and somersaulting around in her stomach. All of her sensory nerves concentrated on the tingles his lips were making on her skin. It was a good thing that she wasn't standing; her legs feel as wobbly as cooked pasta.

"You can't do that," Katie said with burning cheeks as she snatched her elbow out of the vicinity of Oliver's lips. "You're not allowed to. That's special boyfriend privileges."

Oliver ran a hand through his hair and scowled as he looked away. "It was _your_ grand idea to demote me from 'special boyfriend' status."

Her jaw dropped open. "Take it back!" she said and smacked his chest. "I'm sorry, but the last time I checked, our break up was mutual. As in, we_both_ agreed it was for the best!"

He glared at her. She glared back. No one blinked for a good three minutes.

"About the boyfriend thing - why do you care?" Katie mumbled under her breath when she finally broke eye contact.

"Huh?" was his eloquent reply. Didn't she know that he had never stopped caring about her?

"Never mind."

"You're giving mixed signals, Katie. I'm not a mind reader so can you at least give me a break and just tell me straight up what you want from me?"

"When we broke up, you promised me that the whole 'just friends' thing would work out," she reminded him. "So you can't have romantic feelings for me anymore, got it?"

"Oh, piss off," he scoffed. "You're such a hypocrite, you know?" He fluttered his eyelashes and mocked her in an off-key falsetto. "Kiss me, Ollie, to make it better!"

"Go fuck yourself." She made sure to slam the front door on her way out.

x

Barely an hour has passed before Katie was back at his door begging for forgiveness.

"Lavender was making a silicon replica mould of Won-Won's penis while she waited for her pregnancy test results," she said by way of explanation.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Oliver muttered and let her back into his flat.

x

"What's in your hands?" Oliver asked when Katie knocked on his door a few weeks later.

She showed him the grainy black and white photographs of Lavender's womb. "Ultrasounds of the belly bean." The so-called baby smudge looked like a little scrunched up frog.

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"Your flatmate and her boytoy have got to be the most unqualified people to become parents."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Oliver banged his door shut in Katie's face. She blinked and then knocked again.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"Accidents happen, you know?"

He's not sure if she's talking about Lavender's pregnancy or his door banging or their break up. There's been no mention of their break up (which had happened two months ago) in this conversation but somehow that old wound always managed to get reopened so Oliver thinks it is best to just rip off the proverbial band aid now and bring up their "mutual split". Because, you know, if he doesn't do it, Katie undoubtedly will.

"Us breaking up wasn't an accident," he said. "You knew exactly whose heart you were breaking when you said it was over between us."

"Er, what?"

Oliver shrugged.

"Break up is a bit of a misnomer, anyway. I recall us saying that we were going to 'take a break', not 'we're breaking up'."

"Same difference."

"Why do we keep revisiting this subject?" Katie demanded.

"Why did you break up with me?"

"Why did _you_ break up with _me_?" she retorted.

"Maybe because I bloody love you? I'd do anything you want to make you happy, Katie, and for some strange reason you thought breaking my heart was the only way for you to be happy!"

Katie thought it would not be a good time to mention that she's not happy at all without him.

"I...have to go," she said instead and fled back to her flat.

x

"They named their devil spawn Sam Sam Weasley. Just thought you would want to know." Katie smiled sadly and then made to go back down the hallway towards her flat.

"Sam Sam?" Oliver repeated. His voice stopped Katie in her tracks. It had been half a year since he and Katie last talked (fought). He was way out of the loop regarding the details of her soap drama life.

"Yeah," Katie said. "They were too lazy to figure out the belly bean's middle name. Or they forgot that they had already written down his first name."

"Poor kid," Oliver shook his head. He figured that during the labour, Lavender and Ron were both doped up on drugs or something.

"Accidents happen."

"Yeah," he said, and once again they were back to talking about their break up. "They sure do."

They stared at each other, wondering how they had gone from the best of best friends to lovers to sort-of-but-not-really-friends and now strangers.

"Tell Ron and Lavender that I hope they're doing well," Oliver said, not talking about the new parents at all.

"Will do. They, er, they wanted me to let you know that they missed you."

"Give them my apologies," Oliver said. He gave her a wave goodbye and that was that.

[-]


	13. fred&hermione: Come and Save My Life

**Author's Note:  
>Disclaimer:<strong>

Written for the AU Battle Competition (r1: superhero!au ; bartender!au ; "You mean...that happens a lot?" ; actions speak louder than words). Title from the song lyrics to "Out of My League" by Fitz and the Tantrums.

For Colleeeeeeen. AWOOOO and happy birthday, cutie! xoxo Safaaaaaaaaaaaaari

14 February 2015. Word Count: 1,509

**He never seemed to stick around after he had saved the day.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Come and Save my Life<span>**

[-]

On the other side of the country, New York City was exploding into chaos. Buildings crumbled into a scattered mess of glass and steel, and fire bloomed in the aftermath like mushrooms after a rainstorm. The sky was dark with a swirling mass of ugly hooded figures in tattered robes. The ground was littered with people who seemed to have dropped over dead in the middle of whatever they had been doing when the attack struck. Police and fire-fighters crowded the scene in an attempt to stop the invasion but the aliens did not discriminate who their victims were and many of the state militia were amongst the fallen civilians. And she watched it all, horror-struck yet safe in Los Angeles from her side of the television screen.

BREAKING NEWS, the red banner flashed on the news channel's screen. NEW YORK IS UNDER ALIEN INVASION. For once, Hermione observed, The Three Broomsticks Sports Bar and Grille was not showing the latest football game or beer commercials, instead opting for CNN to cover the mass-destruction occurring live in New York.

"God damn," one of the patrons sitting on a barstool cursed, effectively breaking the shocked silence which plagued the bar.

"What the _hell_ are those things?" another said as he pointed a chubby, trembling finger at the cloaked aliens.

No one answered. They all held their breath as the news camera panned in and showed a grotesque close-up of one of the aliens as it swooped down to scavenge out another innocent human as its prey. Once it had selected its target, it used its skeletal talon-like hands to clutch them. Then, the alien lowered its head and – Hermione stifled a scream and turned away from the television screen in revulsion. The alien had no face behind their hood.

"Oh my God, is it _kissing_ the person?" a woman shrieked.

"Man, that is so messed up," the guy sitting next to Hermione at the bar counter said, shaking his head. Hermione nodded weakly and gestured to the bartender to bring her another drink.

The CNN anchor began narrating the broadcast as the feed began to loop to the most dramatic scenes. "What we're seeing here is a swarm of aliens who are focused on eliminating the population of one of America's most crucial cities. New York City was attacked at eight-thirteen tonight and has been under siege for a little under two hours now with no sign of alien retreat. Counterattack to the invasion has been ineffective. The creatures are faceless flyers and have conducted their attacks by swooping down in mass numbers to suck the life out of their targets. Known as the 'Kiss of Death', it renders the victim of emotion. If subjected to prolonged exposure to this Kiss, the effects are fatal. People in close proximity to these aliens express symptoms of depression, decreased activity, and hypothermia. The President has issued – "

"Here you are, lass," the bartender said as he pushed Hermione's drink to her. She nodded her thanks absentmindedly, not taking her eyes off the television screen but noting in her peripheral vision that he had really bright orange hair. She sipped her rum and Coke just to keep some semblance of normality in her life while the world as she knew it crashed down all around her.

Suddenly, the newsreel that was being looped switches back to the live camera. A figure flew in on a broomstick, hand outstretched as he held a long, stick-like thing.

"It's the Mage!" the man with chubby fingers identified the hero.

Gasps of excitement rippled all throughout The Three Broomsticks. The Mage was known for his heroics and good deeds along with his flying broomstick and magic wand. He was kind and humorous but he never seemed to stick around after he had saved the day. 'The Disappearing Act', people called it. A wave of his wand and _poof!_ He's gone.

Onscreen, the Mage pointed his wand at the aliens and yelled out something that sounded like _E.T. phone home_. A blinding bright white light shot out of his wand and created a pulsing shield of pure energy that the creatures could not seem to penetrate. The Mage's energy force field grew until all of New York City was covered beneath it.

The bar erupted in cheers, yet Hermione held her breath. To cover such a wide area would require a lot of energy and the shield would be spread out thin. It would only take a few moments until one of the aliens penetrated through the Mage's defence.

Hermione looked around the establishment at the other customers. Didn't they realise the fight wasn't over yet? As her gaze passed over the whole room, her attention was piqued by the bartender's actions. Out of everyone, he was the only one acting normal, and it was so deliberately normal that it was suspicious. She narrowed her eyes at him, scrutinising the way he washed out beer mugs. One, two, three swipes with that filthy rag. Dust and grime coated the glass. He would hang it on a rack near the mirror that covered the entire wall of the bar, but he placed the beer mug oh-so-casually near an almost indiscernible crack in the mirror.

Hermione continued to stare, certain that the bartender was up to no good. When the bartender had gone to serve the crowd's celebratory drinks, she shifted in her seat so that she was directly across the crack. Her reflection in the mirror was subtly fractured so that it looked like a puzzle whose pieces didn't quite fit together perfectly but there was an odd patch off to the corner which didn't reflect her earlobe at all like it should have. She stared at it and swore she saw an inky blue sky and a flash of movement. The reflection changed to show what was left of the New York skyline. And then this time she really did scream out loud for in the mirror was the face of one of those alien creatures swooping down and coming straight at her.

x

"Lass, are you all right?"

The voice was familiar but Hermione couldn't pinpoint how she knew the person who was speaking. She slowly opened her eyes, comforted by the man with orange hair she saw. But something was off. For one thing, air was buffeting her face at a high velocity which meant she was either in the middle of a hurricane or she was flying. The broomstick she was sitting upon clearly meant it was the latter. However, only the Mage owned a flying broomstick.

"Is the bartender thing your alter-ego?"

He blinked, obviously confused by her question. "What? Oh, you mean George? No, he's my twin brother." He lifted one hand to tap his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, but now that you mention it he could totally be my alter-ego. I like that idea. Thank you for it."

Meanwhile, Hermione was hyperventilating. "Oh my God!" she screamed. "Put your hand back on the broomstick! Both hands on the wheel when you drive!"

The Mage laughed. "What, are you afraid we're going to crash into a cloud or something?"

"That's a real thing?"

"No, I was just messing with you. Relax."

Hermione, of course, did not relax. "What's going on? What were those faceless alien things? Why did they attack New York? How did I get here? Where are we going?"

"Whoa, hey now, one question at a time. I don't have the brain space to remember all that you just said."

Hermione scowled but slowed down her thought process for him. "Fine. So, what's your name? Your _real_ name. I'm not going to call you the Mage to your face; that would be weird."

The superhero with the orange hair who was not George the bartender but instead the Mage replied, "Fred. And those were Dementors, the prison guards for Azkaban. There's been a mass breakout, so they're trying to round up prisoners."

"They decimated almost the entire city's population!"

"Well, if you hadn't notice they kind of don't have eyes to see if they're targeting the right person."

"You mean... that happens a lot? They attack innocent people in case they get lucky and get the one they were looking for? Wait, so you're on their side?"

"No, not exactly."

Hermione was quiet. She didn't understand, and her brain hurt from whatever had made her unconscious earlier. "Fred," she said after the landscape beneath them changed from glowing city skyline to ocean water. "Where are we going?"

He smiled. "Headquarters in Scotland. You think I'm the only wizard in the world? Silly girl, you are one, too. The best and brightest witch I've ever met, and I had Professor McGonagall as a teacher, you know. You tried to hide yourself in Australia with your parents, Hermione, but your identity was compromised so you performed a Memory Charm on yourself and escaped to America. We're going to get your memories back and then you're going to help us fight in the war again."

[-]


	14. oliver&katie: You're not the one I was

**Author's Note:  
><strong>**Disclaimer: Some details may not fit in with the canon timeline.**

Written for the Pirate Ship Competition (r7: Valentine's Day, KBOW, bush, toy, leg, nurse, chameleon ), Acrostic-y Titles Competition (c4: Diagon Alley – _y_ou're not the one I was thinking of)

20 March 2015. Word Count: 1.398

**"Imagine if you didn't feel so shitty about losing – winning wouldn't feel as good as it does, you know?"**

* * *

><p><strong><span>You're not the one I was thinking of<span>**

[-]

Yesterday's scrimmage was never to be spoken of again, Oliver Wood decided. And _of course_ everything that could go wrong had gone wrong in a practice match against Slytherin. Stupid cursed Friday the 13th unluckiness. And to add to his misery, he'd lost today's match to Hufflepuff. He pounded the tiled wall of the change room showers in frustration. It was official. He, Oliver Wood, was the worst Quidditch Captain in all of Gryffindor history. Seven years of blood, sweat, and tears for this sport, and not a measly Quidditch House Cup to show for it.

"Mate, you still in here?"

The voice was muffled by the water streaming out of the showerhead, but nonetheless, Oliver replied with: "Go away."

"Bloody hell, mate, it's been three hours since the Snitch was caught. What are you still doing in the showers?"

"Bathing myself in the tears of little children whose toys and dreams have been mercilessly crushed. Now go away, Fred – George – whichever one of you who is distracting me from my post-match drowning," Oliver moaned dramatically.

"No can do," Fred said cheerfully.

"Katie demanded we stay here," George explained.

"Something about making sure you don't die in here all alone on Valentine's Day –"

"So now that we're here – and you're not alone – carry on with the drowning," said George.

"For you, though, we'll be S.A.D. as well in honour of it being Single's Awareness Day."

"We'll miss you –"

"But not the 5 am practices –"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Hello, I'm right here!" he said to get their attention. "Keep on criticising my coaching methods and you'll have stadium laps first thing tomorrow morning!"

"Not the _stadium laps_," one of the twins gasped in horror.

"Look, Fred, my leg muscles are already quivering at the thought of physical exercise!"

Oliver tried to keep his lips from twitching but failed. "All right, all right, you little pricks. Message received. Go tell Katie I've survived this defeat. I'll be up in the Infirmary to check on Harry in a minute."

"Oh, yeah? Well, then, while you're up there why don't _you_ go tell Katie yourself?" George said.

"Yeah, mate, she's all yours. Merlin, she's almost as scary as Mum," Fred shuddered. Their voices recede in proportion to the noise of their footsteps on the change room floor as they leave.

"Dammit," Oliver swore. He ran his hands agitatedly through his hair; he was so sure that his plan to avoid Katie's wrath was foolproof. He sighed and slowly rallied himself together to go face his sure-to-be-irate girlfriend.

x

"I'm disappointed in you, Oliver."

"I know, babe."

"You promised that we would win this match, and that we would have a shot at the House Cup this year."

"I know."

"And look at us – fourth place and with a severely injured team to boot! We're pathetic and the laughing stock of Hogwarts. How could you let this happen to the team under your captaincy?"

"Listen, babe, I –"

"Oliver?"

He stopped his pacing outside the Infirmary and jerked his head up, eyes wide and heartbeat racing. "Katie! Er, hi! How's Harry?"

"Sleeping." She opened the Infirmary doors wider and peered around. Then, she eyed him in concern. "Who were you just talking to?"

"No one," he replied quickly. Oliver gave her a twitchy smile in answer to the silent questions in her eyes.

"So if I check the alcove over there, I won't find some other girl you happen to fancy calling 'babe' as well?"

"What? No! Babe, you know I would never cheat on you."

Katie snorted. "Right, silly me. No one else would dare put up with your madness."

"Mad? You think I'm mad?"

She stared at him oddly. "You were just talking to yourself and pacing in front of the Infirmary door like a man who's about to find out he's a dad."

"I was?" For some reason, the images her words conjure don't freak him out as much as they probably should have.

"Did you ingest too much water when you were drowning yourself in the showers?" she asked, stepping out of the doorway and wrapping herself in his arms. "You're not making any sense, Oliver."

He tucked her into his side and smoothed out her chestnut hair in soothing, repeated motions. "You're supposed to be angry at me," he said stupidly. "At least, the twins said you were angry enough to break up with me on Valentine's Day."

"Er, all right." Katie pulled back out of his embrace. "I am very cross with you, Oliver Maxwell Wood."

"You're laughing at me!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"I love you!"

He blinked. "What?"

"What?" Katie echoed.

"What did you just say?"

"That you lose. You blinked before me."

He furrowed his brow but let the subject drop. "Er, all right. So I guess I lose. Again."

Immediately, her eyes clear in recognition of what he's referring to. "It's the first match of the season, Oliver. Today's bad weather and unlucky conditions won't make or break our rest of the season," Katie consoled him. She intertwined their fingers together and rubbed her thumbs soothingly over the back of his hands.

"Yeah, but I let everyone down."

"No!" she corrected him earnestly. Katie stretched up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss on his lips. "No, Oliver, you didn't. You could never. You're a brilliant Captain, and everyone knows it. Imagine if you didn't feel so shitty about losing – winning wouldn't feel as good as it does, you know?"

"If you say so."

"I know so." She kissed him again, little butterfly kisses all along his jaw, cheeks, and tip of his nose until he cooperated and kissed her back. "Now, as a nurse-in-training, I also know that what you need to get you out of this funk is fresh air and exercise."

"Showers cure a lot of things, too." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Oliver!" She giggled and slapped him on his chest. "No."

He huffed. "Oh, all right, then. How about a walk around the lake before dinner? Would that do, Nurse Bell?"

"As long as I get out of 5 am stadium laps," she answered cheekily as they walked hand-in-hand out onto the Hogwarts grounds.

x

In the end, Oliver agreed to moving practice one hour later. In his defence, Katie proposed her compromise and then ambushed him with kisses until his mind was fuzzy and he unknowingly agreed to whatever she said.

"You're a cheater, Katie," he murmured as he played with the ends of her hair. They were sitting on the bank of the Black Lake with the endless sunset in front of them and the castle to their backs. The rosy golden atmosphere illuminated half of Katie's face, subtly enhancing her happiness in the ever-changing light. Oliver had the urge to kiss his beautiful chameleon girl again and again. But he practised restraint: his lips still tingled from all their snogging earlier in the evening, anyway.

"And you're a keeper." Katie laughed at her corny joke and shook her head. "Ugh, Quidditch humour. Make me stop."

"I won't."

"Yes, you will. For your sanity and mine."

"Nope."

"Do it."

"Nope."

They were still arguing as they traipsed through the bushes back to Hogwarts. By this time, Oliver had forgotten what they were even bickering about but he knew that riling Katie up was too much fun to concede defeat. Then, all of the sudden, Katie blurted out in the middle of their row:

"I love you."

"Aha!" Oliver crowed gleefully. "You said it again!"

"What? I said what?" she asked, playing innocent.

"You said you loved me! I _knew_ you weren't saying 'that you lose.'"

She shrugged, stopping in the Great Hall entryway. "And I knew you would figure it out sooner or later."

"Just in case you were wondering, I love you, too."

There was a pause of silence, and then the Great Hall burst into a massive round of applause. Katie laughed at Oliver's misfortune of being heard by an unplanned for audience.

"Well, now no one in the castle is wondering if you love me or not," she smiled. "Thanks for the best inadvertent Valentine's Day gift, Oliver."

In response, he blushed a bright red and looked for the nearest wall to hide behind. Perhaps the Friday the 13th unluckiness never really did go away.

[-]


End file.
